


Change of plans

by LadyIrina



Series: Best laid plans [2]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (2014)
Genre: M/M, More of what was supposed to be pointless PWP and with more fluff and angst, Peter is still a smartass, Saal is even more uptight, Slash, beware of the man-smut, no panties were hurt in the making of this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-07
Updated: 2014-09-07
Packaged: 2018-02-16 12:44:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2270184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyIrina/pseuds/LadyIrina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter Quill was still savoring his success like a delicious pieces of candy, when darkness came alive behind him and his senses kicked in a second too late to dodge the attack.<br/>All Peter saw was a tall shadow and then he was face first against the wall with one arm twisted behind his back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Change of plans

**Author's Note:**

> I was hoping that maybe a couple of souls would bother reading this fic, so I must say I'm truly honored and so happy you all wanted to hear more about these two! Hope you enjoy this piece as well!  
> Warning: based solely on the film.

Unknown moon, 5 months after the defeat of Ronon: 

Peter Quill was backing away, gingerly, hoping to make it out of the alley without a sound.

Ok, so he didn't strictly 'need' to steal the necklace as there was no lack of money from their previous work, but he just couldn't help himself.  
When Peter saw something shiny, he just had to have it!  
Blame it on Yondu's bad influence.

The family had been asleep in the mansion anyways, no harm there, and they had plenty money, so definitely no harm there!

He was still savoring his success like a delicious pieces of candy, when darkness came alive behind him and his senses kicked in a second too late to dodge the attack.  
All Peter saw was a tall shadow and then he was face first against the wall with one arm twisted behind his back.  
His attacker was stealthy, strong and fast, it seemed. However, Peter mused, as he reached for the small smoke grenade by his belt, no one outdid Starlord when it came to fighting dirty!

"Peter Quill," a deep voice declared, "by the authority of the Nova Corps, you are under arrest."

Startled, Peter froze. He knew that voice!  
"Saal?"

His other hand was yanked behind his back as well and Peter felt the cuffs closing before he was spun around. He was then shoved back against the wall again and found himself face to face with a seriously pissed off Denarian Saal.  
"Saal! Hey! Long time, no see!"

62 days to be precise. 62 days since he had the best fuck of his life and then stole his ship.

By the sour expression on Saal's face, he hadn't forgotten either.

"You are hereby charged with theft of personal property and will be brought to a suitable prison for your punishment," the Denarian droned on. 

Peter grinned, strangely nervous and not due to the threat of jail. "You look good."  
That got a reaction at least.  
Saal flinched, barely visible, but Peter caught it.

Still touchy about his scars then, Starlord mused. It was a shame, really, because he meant it.

Last time, Saal had been pale, dark smudges under his eyes, with alcohol slowing his thought and movements. Struggling hard to deal with his ruined face.  
Now he was back to his old standards with a haughty facial expression, impeccable hair and a ramrod spine.  
He looked healthy, even with the scars. And that uniform looked mighty fine on him...!

"Get moving, Quill," Saal growled, taking a firm hold of his upper arm and yanking him along.

Peter stumbled affably along, stealing a glance over at him and judging the situation. "How you been, buddy?"  
Saal's gaze flickered briefly over to him, but he didn't answer.  
"Myself, I've been keeping busy, thanks," Peter continued as if he didn't notice the ice cold shoulder. "An awful lot of work that needs to be doing for a fine man like me."

Saal didn't even bother to hide the eye-roll.

"Did you hear about the slaves disappearing from that mining planet?" Peter asked innocently.

"I'm not interested," Saal stated.

Finally! He speaks.  
"Oh, you sure about that?" Peter sent him a smug look. "It involves your ship..."

Saal briefly returned the look with a harsh stare, but then he relaxed and softened a tiny fraction at what he saw parked by the town house.  
Aforementioned ship.  
"Come on," Saal ordered and tugged him towards the ship. "Your cell is waiting for you."

Peter frowned.

This might prove a little more complicated than planned...

-

Weeks of searching and chasing Peter Quill and suddenly there he was.  
Getting the cuffs on him had been almost too easy, the man hadn't even put up a fight, and now he was finally going to get his ship back.

Every time he read about a crime being committed during these weeks, he'd been sickly nervous to read it involved his ship. His good reputation was all that he had left now.  
But, whatever mischief the Terran had been up to with his poor ship, it never reached the public.  
Thank the heavens for small mercies.

Entering the spacecraft , Saal wrinkled his nose at the smell and how messy it was inside.

It was definitely going to need a thorough cleaning and scrubbing!

He marched over and pushed Quill to sit down in the co-pilot seat.  
"Stay," Saal ordered before moving over to the pilot seat and fidget with the starting procedure.

Peter squirmed for a bit, trying to get comfortable with his hands cuffed behind him, but eventually gave up and just slumped back in the seat. "Are the cuffs really necessary, Saal?"

"Yes." The engines were starting up and the Denarian brushed an empty cup away from the radar. "Now be quiet."

Peter shifted around, flung one leg over the armrest, gazing at him with raised eyebrows. "Just answer me one thing, okay?"

Saal glanced over with a withering look.

"Last time we, heh, spoke, you said you were done with the Nova Force," the Terran stated. "And here you are. Freshly pressed uniform and shiny shoes and everything."

The nerve of the man! Saal straightened and hated the fact that there was no trace of concern in Quill's eyes. "You stole my ship!"

"Yeah."

"Yeah?! You stole my blasted ship!" He took a step closer, clenching his hands into fists to prevent himself from hauling the Terran up by his jacket. "You broke into my room, tricked me and then you have the nerve to steal my ship! You honestly thought I would let that slide? That I wouldn't come after you? Are you really that bloody daft?"

A smug smile slid over Peter Quill's face and he shook his head. "No."

No? No, what? No, he didn't think Saal would let it slide?  
Blinking, the Denarian backed up a step this time.  
He'd meant for him to chase him? Why?

The notion was too ridiculous to entertain! Saal scoffed with badly concealed contempt. The Terran was just trying to mess with his head again.  
He turned back to the control console, trying to focus on take-off and ignore the fact that he could feel Peter's gaze resting on him.

"You do look good though," Quill stated, in a voice so soft and silky it felt like a caress.

Saal was physically unable to prevent himself from flinching again. Stop lying to me, he felt like screaming, but kept quiet and merely got the ship airborne instead. 

Nova Prime had been delighted to see him out of his room and back into uniform again and most of the people he served with seemed relieved to have him back, but there was no way to avoid the stares.  
The people who used to look at him with desire or admiration would now flinch at his presence and eye him with pity or disgust.  
He did not need a Terran to rub that in.

The doctors said his skin still needed time to heal some more before they could see if they could do anything else to fix some of the damage left by the fire. Until then he was stuck with his ruined face.  
Which he intended to hide once more after he'd dumped Quill at the prison transport and got his ship back home safely.

-

For a while they travelled in silence, until they reached deep space, then Peter shifted uncomfortably.  
The cuffs were cutting off the blood supply to his hands.

"Saal. Come on," he finally pleaded. "You don't need the cuffs."

Predictably Denarian Saal didn't answer or even honor him with a single glance.

Sighing, he lowered his leg from the armrest and inched forward until he could get up.

Now that got a wary glare from the other man.

"Sit your arse down, Quill," was the firm order.

"Just listen," Peter asked, inching closer.  
Saal leaned back in the pilot seat and raised his eyebrows with mock interest.  
"I know how it is when your life is taken away from you." Peter halted next to his chair. "I know that, okay? But I didn't give up. And neither can you."

Surprised, Saal gazed up at him with a touch of confusion as well. "What are you talking about?"

Peter shrugged with a faint smile. "You're a good lawman, Saal. Scars don't change that."

It seemed like Saal was actually considering what Peter was saying and finally he stuck his chin out. "Why did you come to my room?"

Peter hesitated, then decided to, for once, tell the truth. "I was going to copy your ID badge. "  
Saal waited for him to continue.  
"I needed access to a certain place. A fine high ranking officer like yourself would have that. Then I changed my mind."

"My ship?" Saal's gaze flickered away and he cleared his throat before he added, "and... me?"

"The ship was an impulse," Peter admitted, though it had had its uses. "But you..." He felt the smug grin appearing despite his better judgment and he took a step to stand in front of the Denarian. "You were... a surprise."

He didn't appear fully convinced, but at least some of the cold distance was melting away from Saal's face and his shoulders lost some of their tension as well.

Debating whether or not to risk it, Peter moved even closer. He tried to read Saal's reaction to his proximity, but the man had an amazing poker face. Oh well, who dares wins...  
He slowly placed a knee on the seat and moved up to carefully straddle Saal's thighs. 

The man might have a perfect poker face, but his fingers dug into the arm rests and revealed that he wasn't as unaffected as he might have liked to be.  
What Peter wouldn't give to have had his hands free now.

He decided to use what he could.

Leaning forward, Starlord lowered his voice to a murmur. "And I've been thinking about that night a lot. Have you?" The unsteady breath from the other man was answer enough. "I've never come that hard before. Haven't been able to stop thinking about it, actually. About you."

That made Saal turn his face towards his, so close he could actually feel the heat from his lips, and Peter suddenly didn't have to fake desire anymore.

"I don't believe you," the Denarian stated bitterly in a hard as iron voice.

"Yeah, you do," Peter whispered in return with a grin. "Now get these cuffs off me and let's get down to business."

Saal still hesitated so Peter leaned in that final inch and stole a soft, dwelling kiss.  
He'd almost forgotten how sweet that mouth was and he wanted to dive in and taste him as well, but Peter needed to keep this as a preview. If the man wanted more, the cuffs came off.  
Reluctantly he broke the kiss and sat up to study his captor.

Saal seemed torn between the desire to appear the cold soldier and just plain desire, but eventually he gingerly placed a hand on Peter's thigh and the decision was made.

-

Calling this a bad idea wasn't even close to covering it, but the only thing Saal had been dreaming about more than wringing Quill's neck was fucking him to within an inch of his life.  
He moved his hands up to the Terran's waist and pulled him closer, noting how they both made a satisfied sigh at the groin to groin contact. But when Saal moved to kiss him, Quill leaned away.

A second attempt resulted in the same.

More than a little annoyed, he leaned back and glared up at him.

Peter kept wearing that smug grin, which Saal was learning to hate with a passion, and he rolled his hips in a teasing movement. "Cuffs. Off."

That smug grin and Peter Jason Quill constantly telling him what to do was really starting to grate on his last nerve!

Reaching up to slide his hand into Peter's hair, Saal suddenly tightened his grip and held him firmly in place as he leaned up to whisper in his ear. "I don't have to, you know."

The unspoken threat only seemed to startle the man for a second, making the grin waver, but then he met Saal's gaze with calm confidence. "You're not that kinda guy, Saal."

Saal glared at him, but couldn't deny it.  
Reaching behind him, Saal opened the cuffs on one of Peter's hands, allowing him free use of his hands without removing them completely.  
Before the Terran could start complaining about that fact, the Denarian took a firm hold under his oh so nicely shaped ass and stood up.

Peter flailed and yelped, instinctively wrapping his legs and arms around Saal. His smug expression vanished, now replaced with surprise and soon awe as he was carried towards the sleeping quarters.  
"Oh! Wow!" There was an unexpectedly innocent laugh in those words. "...Just how strong are you, man? I mean, damn! You're not gonna drop me, are you? Or throw your back? Because that would be a serious mood killer, let me tell you!"

"Shut up, Quill," Saal ordered, both insanely annoyed at the Terran and disappointed in himself. At least this time he wasn't denied when he leaned in to keep the man quiet by the cunning use of his lips.  
Peter didn't seem to mind, happily opening up to the invasion of his mouth with a satisfied sound, and focused on making a mess out of Saal's hair instead as he ran both hands through the black locks with enthusiasm.

Moving down the hallway, not breaking contact between their lips of their bodies once, Saal silently blessed every deity in existence that the sleeping quarters were the first door they'd meet or he would've just settled for a wall. 

He could name at least fifteen races in this galaxy which had five or more hands and wondered if Peter Quill had some of their DNA, as he could have sworn the Terran had his hands in his hair, stroking over his shoulders, clutching at his back and grabbing his ass at the same time!

It was probably a testament to his propensity to have things neat and clean that Saal managed to note that the bedroom was a mess as well as the rest of his once beloved ship, even as he was dumb drunk on lust for the idiot in his arms. 

Filing it away for later, Saal then followed him down onto the bed.

And that, that right there, Peter Quill, the most irritating low-life Saal had ever had the misfortune of running into, eager and willing against his body was the most intoxicating thing he'd ever been exposed to.  
Just like the first time, the Denarian could feel his ability to think slip away and it all became about base instincts.

Peter had already undone the buttons and was pushing at Saal's jacket to get it off. Pausing only to tear off his gloves, the Denarian allowed him to tear the jacket off and only hesitated as greedy fingers started working on his undershirt.  
It was one thing for Peter to have been exposed to them in mostly darkness, but this was a cheerfully lit up room where the ruined skin would be seen in its full gory glory.

"Dude, seriously," the Terran panted against Saal's neck, causing delightful shivers to run down his back, "you're grade-A hunk. Stop worrying. It's only scars. I got them too."

Again with the lies, but at least a part of it caught Saal's attention. "Where?"

-

While nowhere near as impressive as the burns, Peter had his own little collection of scars with neat little stories to them. Stories he was not going to share with Saal.  
He stole another kiss and tugged again at the shirt. "Take this off and I'll show you."

Scars were a part of a Ravagers life. Hell, it wasn't even that uncommon to lack a limb or two, maybe even an eye! To Peter Quill, scars were merely a badge of honor saying you'd survived.

Saal easily wrung his shirt off, displaying both that gorgeous torso as well as the twisted scars covering his left side, and waited for Peter to do the same.

Grinning, Starlord pulled off his own shirt, made difficult by the fact that he had one towering Denarian lying on top of him and the cuffs still dangling from one wrist, but eventually he managed.  
He then took a hold of Saal's left hand and placed it to the scar next to his collarbone, letting the fingertips move over it, before sliding it down to a scar by side. "Scars only means you survived, Saal."  
He saw the dark eyes flicker from where his hand was touching up to Peter's face.

Fair enough, his scars weren't as dramatic as the Denarian had, but some of them had been pretty close calls!

"Also," Peter added, waggling his eyebrows. "It kinda makes you look badass!"

He waited until the Denarian was mid patronizing eye-roll before flipping them over and sliding down his body.  
The uniform looked good on Saal, but it needed to go away now.

He quickly undid the boots, pulled them off and moved up to start working on the pants.

The other man was back to clutching at the sheets again, like he tended to do when his control was slipping, and considering the bruises Peter had been wearing on his hips after last time, he was both relieved they weren't on him at the moment and looking forward to when they would be!

Once he had removed every piece of clothing from Saal, Peter got rid of his own in a hurry that almost embarrassed even him, but he felt those dark eyes on him and it made everything tight and impatient.  
Crawling back into the soldier's arms, Peter was even a little surprised to feel Saal pulling him into a deep and demanding kiss.

Either the guy was gaining confidence or he was simply too turned on to care about propriety.  
Either way, Peter was totally fine with it.

When the Denarian deigned to leave his lips, only to move over to his neck, Peter couldn't help but to roll his hips against his and loved how it brought a sweet sliver of pleasure but lacking enough friction for it to be truly awesome. His turn to be a tease. 

"What's it gonna be, big boy? What do you want out of this round?" It was a real struggle to keep his voice calm and even, especially as Saal's hands found his hips and made him repeat the movement while meeting him with his own.

"You." Saal's voice was barely audible against his neck. The usually so deep and strong voice was now dangerously weakened by desire and it made Peter grin.

"You gotta be more specific than that, man." It shouldn't come as a surprise, they all always wanted him, so why did Peter feel so ridiculously flattered? "Tell me what you want."

Saal leaned back to meet his gaze and his eyes were almost as black as his hair. "Show me. What you did to me." There was that tongue wetting those lips again. "I want to... I want..."

He couldn't finish the sentence, partly because he seemed to struggle to find the words, but mostly because Peter was too turned on by his wish for him 'not' to kiss him.

After a few moments of indulging himself in wet, deep kisses and their bodies writhing against each other, Peter suddenly stopped and picked up something from the drawer next to the bed.  
He put a familiar bottle into Saal's hand.

"You'll need this," Starlord stated with a smirk.

-

Saal didn't ask what was in the bottle. Knowing Peter Quill, he probably didn't want to know. It did the trick and that was all Saal cared about at the moment.  
Covering his fingers with the slippery substance, the Denarian followed Peter's instructions and hoped the desire didn't kill him before he got to feel those legs around him again.

Garthan Saal had always been a good student. Quick learner. Natural talent at taking, and even better at giving, orders. 

It didn't take long before Quill's words had turned into half-choked sounds and the Terran was the one squirming and grasping at the sheets for once.

If it hadn't been for the fact that he wanted the guy so badly it was approaching uncomfortable, Saal might've felt smug at the change of roles.

It did give him a splendid view of the Terran's body though. Peter Quill was impressively muscular. Esthetically pleasing, not like the mountain of a man he usually dragged around, Drax, but far more built than the common Xandarian. 

And the strength was not just for show.  
Something Saal discovered when Peter pulled him up to a hard kiss as a result from a couple of direct hits to that place which made everything disappear in a jolt of pleasure.

He only had time to groan into Quill's mouth when the man suddenly had his legs around his ribs and his hand guiding his cock inside him.  
Pushing into that tight heat almost pushed his mind over the edge.

Saal wasn't even aware that he instantly began moving against him, but eventually Peter's nonsensical blabbering got through his hazy mind and he forced himself to slow down.

"No, no, no," Peter crooned against his neck, breathing hard against the sweaty skin and digging his fingers into Saal's back. "Don't stop now, man!"

It took every ounce of his willpower to regain the ability to speak, but Saal somehow managed it and took a firm hold of the Terran's hip to guide his movements to an agonizingly slow pace. "I thought I told you to shut up."

Peter breathed a laugh, clinging and squirming against him as it seemed impossible for him to keep still.

Allowing the pleasure to build and build, until they both were on the verge, Saal would then break the rhythm or hold Peter still until it passed, again and again.  
It was soon driving them both insane, but the Denarian knew this might very likely be the last time he got to have Peter Quill so he would make it last!

Eventually Peter placed a heavy arm behind Saal's neck and pulled him close to pant against his lips. "Stop being such a goddamn cocktease!"

Criminals had given Saal plenty of nicknames during the years, but this one was new.

His amusement was shattered as the Terran clenched his inner muscles tight and bit his shoulder hard, making his hips snap forward of their own will and a curse tear free from his throat.

Saal suddenly realized he had started to move against the other man again, mind blank with raw pleasure, and he felt the first sparks that warned of his imminent release.

He vaguely noticed Peter making a guttural sound of relief and, incredibly enough, smug satisfaction as he let his release paint their stomachs.

Saal followed briefly after that, shaking apart and clenching his jaw so hard it hurt to prevent the sound stuck in his throat from escaping.  
And for those sweet moments, he didn't think, didn't breathe, just felt that pure bliss that allowed him to forget all his bitterness.

When it let him go, unfortunately, Saal found himself panting hard and his arms were trembling at the instinctive effort at keeping his weight off his partner.

Peter huffed amused and abruptly pulled him down, wrapping his arms tightly around him.

Saal briefly allowed himself to soak up the intimacy, the acceptance, just this once. He closed his eyes, let his lips rest against Peter's skin and memorized the sensation of every breath he felt him take.

-

Peter was floating along on his happy cloud, amazed that he could feel Saal relaxing against him, when suddenly the former Denarian rolled off and ended up on his back next to him on the bed.  
Glancing over at him, Starlord was a little resigned at seeing the flicker of annoyance back on Saal's face.  
"What's with the sour, big boy?"

Saal sighed and glanced over with a dry look. "Why do you always have to mess up my plans?"

Peter moved over on his side to face him and put on his widest, most charming grin. "Because I'm just that damn cute!"

To his surprise, the words made Saal exhale a silent laugh. To his shock, it changed the face of the dark haired man completely. Made him younger. Almost vulnerable. "That you are not!"

It was the first time Peter had ever seen him smile and his hands shot out to grab Saal's face before he could even think about it.  
"That," Starlord stated, sitting up and ignoring the startled look replacing the smile, "is the most adorable thing I have ever seen!"

Saal's frown was back with a vengeance and he grasped a hold of Peter's wrists in an effort to free himself. "What are you going on about?"

"I didn't even know you could smile!" Peter admitted, pulling at Saal's cheeks in an effort to recreate the smile, but have to give up when his hands were batted away.

"You're mental. That's what you are." Saal stated, sitting up to escape any more attacks. 

Peter allowed himself to fall back on the bed again, stretching with a laugh. "Some people say that about me." He made an approving sound as Saal got up from the bed and took in the gorgeous view.  
There was a possibility that there was some embarrassed coloring climbing up Saal's face, but to be honest Peter didn't pay too much attention to anything above the neck as the soldier picked up his clothes and then marched into the bathroom in his birthday suit.

Once the shower started up, Peter closed his eyes and half-drowsed until he heard Saal return. 

Predictably the man seemed as cold and distant as ever and Starlord wasn't really up for another battle to break through the ice so he merely sent him a smile and sauntered out to the shower himself.

Showering and getting dressed was both annoying and a slight challenge as he still had one cuff clinging to his wrist, but Peter managed somehow.

Two months ago Denarian Saal had seemed completely lost, hurt and defeated. Peter Quill could never walk away from anybody needing help, especially when the guy had once fought on their side and paid the price for it. He had hoped a hard kick to the man's pride would force him out of hiding and back on the hunt, and whaddya know! It worked! 

Now if only they could organize a certain... agreement to more meetings like this, in bed, then it would be reward enough for the risks he'd taken stealing the stupid ship!

Walking back into the room, he decided to appeal to the dark haired man considering the cuffs.  
By then, Saal had returned to the pilot seat so Peter sauntered merrily up to wave his wrist in front of his face, cuffs dangling off of it.

The Denarian stared at it for a few seconds and Peter was about to ask the obvious question when suddenly there was a loud beep from the radar. A ship was approaching.  
Opening his mouth to speak, Peter never got the chance as suddenly Saal was on his feet. 

It all happened so fast that he didn't realize what was going on before it was over.

He felt Saal grabbing his arm, tug him forward, pull his other hand behind his back and cold iron locked around that wrist as well.  
"They're here to pick you up, Quill."

Peter felt his stomach drop and glanced back at him over with his shoulder, blinking with disbelief. "You're arresting me?"

Saal wouldn't meet his eyes and his face was completely expressionless. "They will transport you to the nearest prison colony in co-operation with the Nova Corps."  
He tugged at Starlord's arm and Peter was too shell-shocked to resist, merely stumbled along as they walked towards the airlock.

-

Saal kept his eyes firmly straight ahead as they waited for the other ship to attach.  
He could feel Peter staring, but refused to meet the gaze.

For as long as he could remember, ever since he was able to walk on his own two feet, Saal had wanted to join the Nova Corps. 

His father had been a Centurion and Saal had followed in his footsteps, advancing in the grades faster than any other Xandarian. Before the battle of Ronon, there were rumors of his further advancement to his father's level.

When the wars came in his younger years, Saal got his first honor medal before he was sixteen years old and soon he was leading soldiers into the battles. By he was 20, he had his own ship.  
He had fought, bled and nearly died for Xandar.

Honor and duty had been his entire life. It was all Denarian Saal knew. It was in his blood.

There was a hiss as the pressure was stabilizing between the two ships and Quill drew a sharp breath.  
"Saal," the Terran spoke through clenched teeth. "Don't do this."

"You broke the law, Quill," Saal stated. "You stole the ship of a high ranking officer, MY ship, and flaunted it in front of a surveillance camera. There are always consequences from breaking the law. Criminals always get their due."

Peter made a frustrated and angry sound, but he didn't speak again.  
His eyes went cold though and Saal wasn't sure why that bothered him.

When the door opened, two soldiers appeared on the other side. Both in blue armor, armed with big guns and hidden under heavy helmets.

"Denarian Saal," soldier on the left greeted.

Saal nodded in confirmation then tugged Peter along as he strode over to the other ship. "I take it the cell is ready?"

"Affirmative, sir," the other soldier answered, as they both trailed after them.

Marching towards the lower level, where the docking bay and prison cells were, Saal was a little surprised that Peter didn't resist. At all.  
It made it a little easier to open the door to the closest cell and push the Terran inside. Saal turned to face the guards, closing the door. "And I fully expect the prisoner to arrive at the prison unharmed. I will check so make sure you do obey your orders."

The soldiers saluted him simultaneously.

Saal hesitated, glancing back at the cell door, wondering if he was indeed doing the right thing.

Would he end up regretting this? Very likely.  
But could he live with himself if he didn't do it?

The Denarian had never once doubted one of his own decisions, but leave it to Peter Quill to mess up even that.

He closed his eyes briefly, telling himself it was too late to change his mind anyways, Saal then turned and marched back towards his ship. "My business here is done, gentlemen. Time for me to return home."

At least he managed to walk away without looking back.

It was out of his hands now.

-

Peter had stumbled inside the cell once Saal pushed him inside and the spent the next couple of minutes glaring at the door with enough intensity for it to catch fire.

Unfortunately that was not a hidden talent and the door remained whole.

Glancing around and examining the room for ages, he then decided there weren't any real escape possibilities.  
Better to wait for jail and have Rocket bust him out or something.

He walked over to the bed and the thoughts which he'd been trying to keep from thinking emerged.

Saal had actually arrested him and handed him over to prison. Fair enough, Peter knew the man was stuck on rules and regulations, but after what he'd done for him...  
If it hadn't been for Peter, Saal would still have been stuck in his room, drinking his life away!  
That was what you got for being a nice guy!

Next time he saw Denarian Saal, Peter was just gonna shoot the guy. Never mind how much both his dick and heart rebelled against the notion. Clearly Starlord would never be anything but a worthless criminal in his eyes so there was no reason for Peter to be on any friendly terms with him!

Grinding his teeth by now, Peter sat down on the bed with a frustrated grunt.

That was when one of the cuffs slid open...

Blinking, Peter tugged lightly with his arm and felt it open even more.  
Surprise and hope bloomed in his chest.

A few more tweaks and the cuff fell completely open and Peter realized Saal had never closed it properly. He huffed a laugh and got up.  
How was it possible he hadn't noticed?  
Which was, of course, when he noticed the door wasn't shut either.

Tip-toeing over, Peter peeked out into the hallway.

Not a person in sight. There was, however, a familiar backpack leaning against the wall next to the door.

His backpack. The one he'd packed when he told the other Guardians he had a personal errand and needed some time flying solo.

Sneaking out of the room, Peter grabbed a hold of the backpack and quickly perused through what was inside. Clothes, weapons and a few toys from Terra, it was all there.  
He was about to pull on the backpack when old habit made him grab at the pocket containing his walkman and dread struck him as there was only something soft inside it.

Going down on one knee, Starlord quickly tore open the zipper and his eyes widened even more when he found the walkman gone, replaced by two pair of pink ladies panties.

Oh hell no. He'd picked up those twin sister wearing such panties on that backwater planet and invited them back to the ship for some... fun. Saal had obviously found their underwear. Was that why he suddenly got so pissed and let him think he'd sent him to rot in jail?

Whatever the reason, the guy had stolen Peter's walkman.

No one stole Peter Jason Quill's walkman and got away with it!

He grabbed the communication device at the bottom of the backpack and pushed the call button for Rocket.

Let the hunt begin.

**Author's Note:**

> There was supposed to be one more piece to this , but the way it's looking right now I may have to turn it into two pieces as it is way too long already! Hope you don't mind! :)


End file.
